


The Lost Heart

by Moonrose91



Series: Adventures of the Crew of the Firefly-class Transport Azanulbizar [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Dehydration, Firefly Fusion, M/M, Malnutrition, Slight Starvation, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been on the ship for three days when the tween aged Hobbit disappears without a trace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IronPanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronPanda/gifts), [Syxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syxx/gifts).



> For Syxx,
> 
> Who without her, you would not have the heavily implied sex between Dwalin and Thorin later in this fic.
> 
> Thank you, my Drift Compatible Partner,
> 
> Moonrose
> 
>  
> 
> [Fanmix by Meddlesomewiz on both 8tracks and Spotify can be found here and by Eru is it gorgeous](http://meddlesomewiz.livejournal.com/11525.html)
> 
>  
> 
> [PANDA'S ART!!! LOOK AT THE PRETTIES PLEASE WHILE LISTENING TO THE MUSIC!!! DO EEEET PLEASE!!!](http://pandamani.tumblr.com/post/86658099209/heres-the-art-ive-done-for-moonrose91s-firefly)

Thorin looked up from his ledger as Glorfindel walked through the common area for the second time in the past hour, this time looking behind things and even standing on a chair to look up into a small niche area that was just above their heads. Thorin watched as the Elf continued to look around, looking and reaching through any small space he could see or reach into before he drifted back out of the room again, this time headed for the medbay. After some time, and after the sounds of cupboards opening and closing and things being moved stopped, the Elf came back out. After a few seconds, he turned and headed away again, and Thorin settled back with the ledger.

It seems not only Esgaroth was being cagey in dealing with Erebor weapons. Damn the Alliance’s tightening grip that made transporting…

Thorin’s thoughts derailed when the Elf returned, once again looking around in the places that are now impossible for him to really reach in and, some, he had to use a mirror to look in. “What are you doing?” Thorin demanded.

“I have…misplaced something and I am trying to find it,” Glorfindel answered, even as he ducked down to look in the cupboard by the stove again.

“You already looked there. And don’t you mean your Hobbit hid it?” Thorin stated and Glorfindel slowly stood up.

“Something like that,” Glorfindel murmured softly as he walked out of the room and headed further into the ship.

Thorin let out a long sigh and focused back on his ledger. He was going to need to shift some orders around and he closed the ledger with a sigh.

They would make do but before they made their way to Erebor, they were going to have to get their passengers _off_ the ship. He was not going to bring non-Dwarves into a purely Dwarven stronghold.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

*~*~*

Gandalf had cooking duties that night and, while not horrible, Thorin was already deciding to insure that Gandalf would _never_ have cooking duties again. As he picked up his dishes, he paused when he saw Glorfindel enter alone. He seemed to deflate slightly when he saw only a Wizard and Dwarves there, before he shifted, as if to leave, when Bofur asked, “Where’s Bilbo?”

All eyes snapped up to Glorfindel, who stilled upon being asked. He glanced around and then sighed, slumping slightly against the doorframe. “I don’t know,” he answered quietly.

“What do you mean you don’t _know_?” Thorin demanded as he stood up violently.

“Just as I said. I have no idea where he is,” Glorfindel answered.

“How do you lose a Hobbit on a _ship_? Was he here when we lifted off?” Thorin demanded.

“I don’t know and yes! And for a couple of days after,” Glorfindel snapped, hands in fists.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Gandalf began but Thorin snorted.

“I will. I don’t want to know what kind of damage that moonbrained Hobbit will do to my ship without supervision, not to mention if he slips and falls somewhere. The smell of a decaying body is not one I want on my ship,” Thorin interrupted and turned to the crew, who were all staring at him with a mix of emotions.

Kíli, in particular, looked distraught over Thorin’s lack of concern over the Hobbit. Thorin was unapologetic for that fact, as he didn’t care about the Hobbit, and he was _not_ terrified that they would find a dead body, and that that fear had nothing at all to do with the smell. That all he could imagine was the small Hobbit somewhere, and dead. “Everyone split up into groups of two, though Glorfindel should go on his own. Pair up experienced with inexperienced,” Thorin ordered and he grabbed Fíli as he strode out of the dining area.

He ignored the way Glorfindel’s eyes followed him.


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of Torture and Isolation
> 
> (Bilbo went through a bad, bad place.)

“Uncle,” Fíli began and sighed loudly when Thorin gave him a sharp look.

“Thorin,” he stated and Thorin gave a low grunt to show he was listening as they looked through his and Kíli’s quarters.

“Do you really hate the Hobbit so much?” Fíli asked and Thorin let out a long sigh.

Fíli distinctly heard him mutter in Khuzdul, something about having Mahal preserve him. The irony of Thorin, who had long stopped believing in Mahal, saying a prayer to said deity was not lost on Fíli. He instead wondered if Thorin had even realized he had said it, even as his uncle and captain slowly looked over at Fíli. “Passengers, normal ones, are a problem. Now, we have three that could threaten the entire operation and the entire kingdom I have built out of the ruin the Unification Wars left us in. No, I have no care for the _mad_ Hobbit that has taken up residence on my ship, because he is the _biggest_ threat to you and Kíli, and _every other Dwarf_ on Erebor!” Thorin hissed out as he turned on Fíli, which caused him to flinch back slightly.

Thorin immediately took a deep breath before he carefully reached out, and Fíli stepped up, grasping Thorin’s shoulders as Thorin grasped Fíli’s upper arms, just below the shoulders, in that familiar familial way. It was instinct to knock their foreheads together shortly after that and Thorin sighed. “I’m sorry for my temper, nephew,” he murmured softly and pulled away.

“It is all right, uncle,” Fíli responded quietly.

They returned to searching through the quarters, but the lack of any hiding places meant they were quickly finished. With that, they climbed up and continued through the rest of the quarters, each being just as empty of one little Hobbit tween as the next.

*~*~*

Glorfindel sighed as he, carefully, combed through the empty shuttle. It was devoid of any semblance of life, of any breathing soul, but he searched anyway. He tried to reach out for Bilbo with his mind, but met only confusing thoughts that seemed to come out of the very walls, so he stopped trying, instead returning to looking through containers.

He dropped an empty container in shock as he felt Bilbo reaching out, searching for his ‘Fin’, and Glorfindel reached back, holding onto the tendril of thought like a child held onto their stuffed toy. A shock of happiness not his own ran through his nerve endings, and he smiled, trying to find Bilbo through the mutual bond they shared.

The trail of thought, however, still twisted away and seemed to fill the ship, leaving Glorfindel as lost as before.

But at least he had contact with Bilbo, and that was better than no contact at all.

*~*~*

“Dwalin?” Kíli questioned and Dwalin grunted as he helped boost the younger Dwarf up to search through the area above the cupboards in the kitchen.

“He’s a moonbrained little Hobbit kid who should probably be kept planet side at some Elfin moon to have his mind taken care of instead of travelling the stars in a manner best befitting pirates and thieves and luxury liners. Now get lookin’,” Dwalin answered and Kíli huffed.

“He’s not that bad. Odd, yes, but he’s actually pretty well held together. Just…odd,” Kíli stated.

They were in charge of searching the eating area and infirmary, all together focused on searching areas Glorfindel had previously combed. Kíli wondered if it was really worth it, while Dwalin knelt down with a low grunt to open up the hidden door to the secondary hold they had slipped in, though it was empty of everything except a, small, cache of illegal weapons. The door was shut again, molding with the floor, and Kíli helped Dwalin to stand. “Why did you check there?” Kíli asked softly.

“I’m not leavin’ a stone unturned laddie. There’s somethin’ about that Hobbit that is just…odd, as you put it. But more than just him bein’ moonbrained,” Dwalin stated and Kíli frowned slightly.

They began to look through everything in the kitchen again, Dwalin boosting Kíli up a few more times. Once every nook and cranny, including those that were behind hidden doors, were checked, they headed to the medbay. Once there, they began to search through the cupboards.

After going through everything, twice, Dwalin finally boosted Kíli up to search in the hidden compartment in the ceiling of the infirmary. It was after Kíli had pulled himself up into it that he got up the nerve to ask the question niggling at the back of his mind. “What do you mean, ‘more than’?” Kíli questioned.

“Just somethin’ more than bein’ a moonbrain,” Dwalin answered as Kíli huffed.

“He’s still one though,” Dwalin added and Kíli chuckled.

“Excellent cook though. I honestly hadn’t known protein could be made into such diverse shapes and tastes,” Kíli responded as he reached back down for the flashlight, which Dwalin handed him.

“Yeah. Yer mum’s the same way though,” Dwalin stated.

The light flashed around the compartment, which was empty of everything except dust. “Really?” Kíli asked.

“Yep. Blessin’ on long journeys, yer mum,” Dwalin stated, even as Kíli searched the corners, murmuring the soft ‘open’ command in Khuzdul to the walls he did so.

“She made somethin’ with leftovers once, back when we were nomads. Shortly before you were born. Tasted exactly like home,” Dwalin continued softly and Kíli stilled looking around the empty hold above the medbay.

He had been so sure that the Hobbit would be there. “Not there?” Dwalin asked.

“No,” Kíli responded and slipped out of the compartment, glancing down briefly to make sure he wouldn’t land _on_ Dwalin before he finished dropping to the ground.

“It’s nearly time for the night cycle to start. I’ll report to Thorin our findings and hope someone else did better than we did. You head onto bed,” Dwalin stated and Kíli hesitated before Dwalin shoved at his shoulder.

“Go on Kíli,” Dwalin stated and Kíli nodded before he trotted off.

Dwalin let out a long sigh as he watched him to go before he headed to the dining table.

*~*~*

Gandalf and Bofur were the last to trudge into the dining hall.

The sight they were met with was Fíli standing next to Thorin, who was at the doorway, with Dwalin at the counter that separated the dining table from the kitchen, while Glorfindel sat at the dining table holding a mug between both hands, staring into its depths instead of drinking it. “Well?” Thorin demanded.

“Not a sign. Which is unsurprising, considering we are trying to find a Hobbit who is determined to hide,” Gandalf answered, even as Bofur quietly asked Glorfindel what he was having.

“Lovely. So we have a missing Hobbit and no way to find him?” Thorin demanded sharply, even as Glorfindel pushed teapot towards Bofur, who poured a generous amount into his own mug he had procured.

“Sounds about right,” Dwalin stated.

Thorin let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he excused Fíli, who quickly left. “Well, there’s nothing more than we can do tonight. Everyone get some sleep. We’ll continue looking tomorrow,” Thorin answered and strode off, leaving Gandalf to hum lowly while Bofur drank whatever Glorfindel had made.

Dwalin was not far behind Thorin and Glorfindel turned to Bofur. “Anything?” Glorfindel asked.

“He’s not in the bridge or anywhere around it,” Bofur stated.

“Not even in the secret compartments the Dwarves swear not to have,” Gandalf added and Bofur gave Gandalf a look.

“I still want to know how you know that old man,” Bofur stated as he drank the tea.

Glorfindel sighed before he finally drank some of the tea he had made in hopes the scent would bring Bilbo out. “He won’t ever tell you,” Glorfindel stated and Bofur chuckled.

“I will answer when the proper question is asked. In the meantime, we best do as the Captain has ordered. Good night Glorfindel, Bofur,” Gandalf stated as he stood up, leaving the pair at the table.

They sat in silence for a while longer, before Bofur sighed and pat Glorfindel’s arm. “He’ll turn up and he’ll be fine. Hobbits, I’ve found, are hardy little beings. And damn fine cooks,” Bofur stated and Glorfindel chuckled as Bofur washed out his mug before he headed to bed, leaving Glorfindel alone in the pale light of the night cycle.

After another hour of nursing the tea, Glorfindel went to bed.

 

*~*~*

It was cold, in the place he had crawled into, and dark.

Too dark.

It reminded him of the pit he was sometimes locked in during the Academy.

He hadn’t liked the pit.

It, and others like it, were where dark and fearful things crawled out of the walls and into his head. Some were screams from others (Elves, Men, Dwarves, worse) that were being driven mad by what was between the pits. Bilbo had just known that whatever came out of the walls and into his mind, went into others as well.

It was why they screamed.

He had screamed too, but because it hurt, not because he was slowly dying from what it was that came through the walls.

Where was the light? He needed light.

With a shift and a twitch, he slowly uncurled from his spot and, with careful precision that had gotten him into the dark spot, he began to climb down.


	3. Day Two

“What’s wrong?” Fíli asked as he watched his brother shift their things around.

For once, they were in their room, though not to sleep, but to change clothes for the day and pick up some parts for the engine.

A storage room was really what their quarters had been reduced to. Kíli especially, as he mostly used his side of their shared quarters for storing parts and the glow in the dark paint he used to color code parts so he could find things when they went dark. “One of my paint buckets is missing,” he muttered as he shifted more of the buckets around.

“You sure?” Fíli questioned.

“Yeah,” Kíli muttered.

“Which color?”

“White. It isn’t one I use, but still.”

“Maybe Bofur borrowed some.”

Kíli scoffed slightly at his brother’s words. “Bofur asks and he says he gets enough of staring at glowing white thanks to staring out into the Black. Same with the red and blue, though those aren’t as bad,” Kíli retorted and Fíli shrugged slightly before he clasped his hand to Kíli’s shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s find your missing paint,” Fíli stated.

Kíli gave a nod and with that Fíli headed to the ladder, climbing up with swiftness born from years of practice, Kíli right behind him.

*~*~*

“What’s wrong?” Thorin demanded as he found the Elf slumped over at the table.

“There’s no food unaccounted for,” Glorfindel answered.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Thorin questioned.

“Not when a Hobbit tween is missing. There should be…something missing, but there’s nothing. The water levels haven’t even been tampered with anywhere,” Glorfindel answered and Thorin barely kept himself from letting out a long sigh.

“What’s so important about the food anyway?” Thorin demanded.

“Hobbits eat seven meals a day. Each of those meals are, generally, rather large. He only had one meal, granted a Dwarvish sized one, before he went missing and Bilbo is underweight, especially for one of his Race. The fact no food is missing worries me greatly. And yes, I brought protein to fill any stores he may make a dent in and yes, those are also untouched,” Glorfindel explained and he slowly stood up.

“I’m going to start looking again and ask Lady Nori if she’s seen him,” Glorfindel stated as he headed for the door.

He looked as if the entire Verse was resting on his shoulders and he only paused briefly at the doorway, as if he had suddenly forgotten why he had started to move to begin with, before he continued down the hallway.

Thorin listened to him walk away and when he was gone Thorin strode over to the table Glorfindel had just vacated.

In the center was a decorative wooden carving that someone, probably one of his nephews, had bought and put there. Without much thought, Thorin picked it up and turned it over in his hands, trying to remember what it was supposed to be. It was shoddy workmanship, really, but as Thorin turned it around, he was reminded of one of those birds that Core-worlders adored, all beautiful and brilliant, singing so hauntingly, when in reality all Thorin could think of was the wild versions and how _happy_ they were. That they didn’t look right, sitting in those cages and he remembers Bilbo, clambering out, shaking and _mad_ and the wood carving is flying across the room.

It  _cracks_  against the far wall and Thorin is taking deep heaving breaths as he tries to figure out what just set him off, because he doesn’t care about one Hobbit.

The Hobbit is a threat, not a crew member for Thorin to worry about, and if the Hobbit removes himself from the threat list, all the better for Thorin.

Thorin mentally repeats this twice more before he storms out of the room, already thinking over hidden caches where a small Hobbit might be able to hide himself away in.

*~*~*

Nori looked up from her client screen when a knock echoed through her shuttle. She carefully pulled the decorative tapestry back over it (this one depicted the Old Middle-Earth tale of thirteen Dwarves and a Fae taking back the Lonely Mountain from a Dragon) and turned to face the doorway. “Enter,” she called out and was only mildly surprised when Glorfindel walked in.

“Glorfindel,” she greeted warmly before she registered that he didn’t look like himself.

“What’s wrong?” she inquired gently as she stood up and Glorfindel shook his head slightly.

“Bilbo went missing. Is there…any way he could have hidden in here?” Glorfindel asked and Nori shook her head.

“No, I’m sorry Glorfindel. And I haven’t seen him, but then, I try to keep myself apart from the crew,” Nori responded gently.

“Don’t see why you should keep yourself separate, Lady Nori, for you have no reason to be shamed over what you do. But thank you for your time anyway, for I know it is precious to you,” Glorfindel responded in a falsely cheerful voice as he turned to the doorway before he paused and turned back.

“Oh and if you do see Bilbo, could you please try to keep him in one place without…touching him?” Glorfindel inquired softly, sounding both pained and hopeful as he asked the question.

“Any particular reason why I shouldn’t touch him?” Nori asked softly and Glorfindel’s shoulders slumped slightly at the question.

“If…if he’s not in his right mind, if he’s…elsewhere, he might hurt you if you touch him. And I really don’t feel like seeing how good Thoin’s aim is when he decides to kill Bilbo for it,” Glorfindel answered and ducked out, the door whooshing closed behind him.

Nori felt her eyebrows raise and her head tilt slightly before she returned to her original seat, pulling the tapestry back, only to find that some of her people had been cleared off. “Odd,” she murmured and disconnected without making any reservations.

She would have to ask Fíli to come up and take a look at it later, most likely after Bilbo was found.

Unless it happened again, then she would have him look at it sooner than that.

*~*~*

Bofur stared out into the Black as he sensed, more than heard, the Wizard enter the bridge. “Captain know you are here?” Bofur asked.

“No. And I highly doubt he would like it very much were he to discover me,” Gandalf answered and Bofur chuckled.

“Likely not. What brings you up here, Master Wizard?” Bofur asked.

“I am here to inquire as to what our new heading is to be, as we are no longer heading for East Path,” Gandalf responded lightly and Bofur gave a soft snort.

“Captain’s talkin’ about heading out toward Bree, ‘cept that’s too close to the Shire, most likely, for the Elf’s likin’,” Bofur answered with a tiny shrug.

“Yes, but where are we headed right now?” Gandalf inquired and Bofur gave the tiniest of shrugs, though he knew exactly where they were going.

Dale where, hopefully, they would ask no questions and _stay put_ so that Thorin could do some business at home, report the semi-permanent passengers, and then leave Erebor again, Dís’s scolding most likely ringing in his ears as he retreated. “Ah, very well then. Thank you, Mister Bofur,” Gandalf stated as he left and Bofur stilled, wondering if he had spoken aloud.

After thirty minutes of thinking it over, Bofur decided he hadn’t, and muttered horrific swears under his breath that cursed all Wizards, most especially those by the name of _Gandalf._

*~*~*

Bilbo smiled up at the astronomical chart above his head, grinning over the constellations he had painted by line and name. The glow was enough to have him forget the Pit and he frowned as he shifted on the floor.

While it had not bothered him yesterday, it bothered him now.

The floor was hard and he felt the cold slipping into his bones now that he wasn’t distracted by memories and darkness. He twitched again and smiled up at the star, Eärendil, which was the center of the 'crown' of the Mariner.

However, the cold was seeping further into him, beyond the bones and reaching for his heart, so Bilbo carefully unfolded from the ground and, once more, made his way down.

Maybe he could sleep once he got something to mask the floor’s hardness.


	4. Day Three

“Okay, whoever stole half our blankets last night, I would like them returned _now_ if you please! Fíli steals the blankets and I’m fucking cold!” Kíli practically growled out as he and his brother walked into the dining area.

Kíli let out a yelp as Thorin cuffed him upside the head. “Language,” Thorin warned lowly and Kíli whined as he rubbed his head.

“I don’t steal covers,” Fíli grumbled.

“Yes, you do. You steal them right off from on top of me and then when I try to steal them back you have the audacity to _growl_ at me!” Kíli protested and Fíli retaliated by yanking on Kíli’s hair and, within moments the pair were wrestling on the ground.

Thorin stared at them as they practically rolled around on the ground, trying to keep the other pinned for longer than two seconds, and it was Dwalin entering the dining area with a muttered curse that reminded Thorin he needed to get them to stop.

With a long sigh, Thorin walked forward and with the ease of practice yanked them apart. Fíli he gripped tightly with one arm, even as the blond Dwarf struggled to reach out and beat his younger brother while Kíli was shoved towards the waiting Dwalin, who easily caught him. “Right. This again. I thought they fixed it with doubling up on the blankets,” Dwalin stated as he began to drag and snarling Kíli the opposite direction of the growling Fíli.

“Someone stole them,” Thorin explained and Dwalin grunted with a low nod and then they had his nephews out of each other’s sight.

Mahal must truly hate him to have someone on the ship steal half of the boys’ blankets. And when he found who it was, Thorin was going to have to remember _not_ to kill them.

*~*~*

Glorfindel had retreated to the unoccupied shuttle, searching for any sign of Bilbo, beyond a soft steady thrum that just filled the ship. He ran his fingers along the edges, searched under the panel, even though it was impossible for Bilbo to fit there. He searched through boxes too small and shadows that weren’t deep enough.

He searched through every impossible place and, when it was over, he just sat down in the middle of the escape pod, surrounded by the forgotten, empty things stored there.

“Bilbo, where are you?” he asked the silence, but there was no answer.

It was some time before Glorfindel managed to get to his feet and head to the hold to do a similar search as the one he had just finished.

*~*~*

Thorin hesitated when he stepped out into the hold to find the Elf poking through anything that was not sealed. “What are you doing?” Thorin questioned, even as the Elf opened an empty box before closing it once more.

“Looking through everything I can look through in hopes I can find Bilbo. The food stores are still the same level as they were before I went to bed, which means Bilbo still isn’t eating. Hobbits aren’t…they don’t handle starvation well. If he were a Man’s child, or an Elfling, I would not be as concerned. Well, that is not true, I would be just as concerned, but…if he’s not eating, when he was already not in the best of health makes me fear that I will find a dead body when we do discover his hiding spot. And, being a Firefly-class owned by Dwarves, that could be anywhere. Literally,” Glorfindel explained as he began search around pallets, dropping onto his stomach to look under the Mule before he moved on.

Thorin watched him weave his way through the items of various legalities, not touching any sealed containers, before he reached in tiny spots the Hobbit would have had no chance to slip into, and then moved on. “If you haven’t found him yet, I doubt you’ll find him now,” Thorin stated.

Glorfindel turned to face him at that, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes almost downcast as he looked at the Captain. “If I believed that, Bilbo would still be trapped within the Academy,” Glorfindel stated before he turned back to his search.

“It is a fool’s hope, Glorfindel,” Thorin warned lowly, knowing that the water levels hadn’t changed enough to be healthy for the missing Hobbit.

That it was the lack of water, not the lack of food, which had Thorin resigning himself to the fact they would find a dead Hobbit, not a live one. “Then I am a fool, for I still hope,” Glorfindel answered as he stood.

Thorin opened his mouth to argue, to try and convince Glorfindel to stop searching when he knew it to be hopeless, when Nori suddenly stormed out of her shuttle. “Thorin, I need Fíli,” she demanded and Thorin twitched all over as he stared up at her.

When Nori’s glare intensified, Thorin shook himself mentally and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Clients were deleted from my terminal, which means there is a slight problem with my console. I need Fíli to look it over,” Nori explained and Thorin let out a long sigh, before he rubbed his temples.

“I’ll get him,” Thorin answered and he focused on Glorfindel.

He then sighed and turned on his heel, leaving Glorfindel to his foolish endeavor. Distantly, Thorin hoped Fíli had calmed down from his earlier fight with his brother.

*~*~*

Fíli grumbled as he worked on the computer, frowning. “What is it?” Nori asked lightly.

“There’s, something…OW!” Fíli responded, cut off with a yelp and yanked his hand back.

“What?” Nori demanded gently, even as she knelt next to him, her geometric patterned robe with the high-collar catching the light fetchingly.

Fíli flushed slightly and looked away pointedly, even as he shook out his hand. “There’s a box. It wasn’t there when I helped you set it up and it just shocked me,” Fíli explained and shifted over so Nori could lean in to look at where his head lamp was pointed.

“Ôyùpûr dashunâlh Uznizûgh!” Nori cursed and Fíli stared at her with wide eyes, his jaw dropping.

He had never heard someone curse the pride of the servants of the Eye of Sauron. “Can you remove it?” Nori asked and Fíli hummed a bit as he inspected it without touching it.

“Um…no, I can’t. At least, not until I figure out how it is wired in there. You might need to leave off any client scheduling till I can figure out how it is wired in there, because this…this is a tiny computer someone…cannibalized and put in here. We’re not missing any computers or computer parts, so I don’t think it was someone on the ship. One of your clients maybe, but…I have no idea how it works and till I do, it is stuck there,” Fíli answered and Nori let out a vicious curse, which had Fíli blushing anew.

Nori was a fine lady and he was going to keep his eyes fixed pointedly on his work while he was here. “Is that all Miss Nori?” Fíli asked quietly and Nori nodded, even as she tugged the tapestry back over the computer.

“Yes, thank you Fíli,” she answered and Fíli quickly walked out of her shuttle.

*~*~*

Dinner was a silent affair that night, until Gandalf broke it. “Where haven’t we looked for Bilbo?”

Thorin let out a long sigh through his nose and ignored the Wizard as he ate the protein that Dwalin had ‘cooked’ this evening. “The hidden caches the Dwarves don’t have,” Glorfindel answered with a low sigh and Thorin looked up from his plate at that.

“Oh, that is true. Of course, they don’t have them. That would be illegal. There may be some normal Firefly niches, however,” Gandalf mused.

“Already looked in the one in the hold. I even pulled myself into it with a flashlight. Only thing there is some minor contraband that would just be ignored by most of the patrols out this far,” Glorfindel responded, ignoring the dark looks Thorin sent him at the fact Glorfindel had slithered his way into one of their unprotected caches.

“Hmmm. True. Do you think any such place could exist in the crew quarters?” Gandalf questioned even as Glorfindel shook his head.

“Those are too defined. It would take a large scale retrofit that would definitely draw Alliance attention. I know. That is what almost got me arrested a while back,” Glorfindel answered softly as he continued to poke at his food.

“Arrested?” Dwalin asked and Glorfindel gave a small half-nod.

“It was before you were born and I said _almost_. Good thing about Elves looking similar to each other, particularly if they have my hair color. Though, at the time, I had dyed my hair red…ish,” Glorfindel answered and gave a weak smile when Kíli began to laugh so hard that he choked on his dinner.

Fíli pounded on his back and Thorin rubbed his forehead with his thumb and pointer finger to keep the headache at bay. “Red?” Kíli asked.

“Well…it was for a particular reason at the time,” Glorfindel answered, even as he finished off his, small, portion.

He then stood up, his plate in hand and glanced around the table. “I’m going to go meditate,” Glorfindel murmured softly and Bofur nodded a bit.

“If ya get a bit off-balanced durin’ the night, I am sure that the Captain won’t mind if ya come up to the bridge to keep me company,” Bofur stated as he ignored the glare Thorin sent him and Glorfindel let out a soft sound that was almost a chuckle.

“I am sure, in fact, that the Captain would mind a great deal, but thank you Bofur. Good night cycle everyone,” Glorfindel answered and left the dining area.

Thorin watched him go before he focused on his meal. “Hey Fíli?” Kíli asked.

Fíli let out a sound that proved he was listening, but didn’t actually answer. “What are we going to do tonight with half our blankets missing?” Kíli continued and Fíli groaned as Dwalin chuckled lowly at that while Bofur didn’t even hesitate to laugh loudly and Thorin looked up.

“I have some spare blankets you two can have till we find the blanket thief. But, you two share dish duty for the next week for them,” Thorin stated, ignoring how both boys immediately moved to complain before they seemed to remember that there was a guest in the room with them, who was chewing on the end of his unlit pipe.

Thorin gave them a look as he placed his plate in the sink before he left. A few moments later, Thorin heard the unmistakable sound of Dwalin following him. Their steps echoed each other as they walked up the steps to the crew’s quarters. “That was sweet of you,” Dwalin stated and Thorin turned to face him in the crew quarter corridor that lead up to the bridge.

“It wasn’t sweet. It was the only thing I could think of to keep them from arguing,” Thorin answered, backing up slowly as Dwalin stalked toward him, stopping when his back was pressed against the wall, Dwalin pressing him up against the metal.

“If that was all, you wouldn’t have given them your blankets. Yer going to be cold tonight,” Dwalin stated as he leaned closer, nudging his knee between Thorin’s legs while he buried one hand in Thorin’s hair and the other was placed on his hip.

Thorin moaned lowly at the sensation of the other’s touch as he reached up to pull Dwalin in closer by his beard, nipping at the skin that was normally hidden by the high collar of his shirt. He knew they should probably take this to Dwalin’s quarters, since his would soon be invaded by a pair of nephews, but…

Dwalin’s knee rubbing against his clothed erection once more interrupted his train of thought and he could not hold back his moan, his offhand shifting to hold onto Dwalin’s shoulder. “Can you think of any way to warm me up?” Thorin grumbled as he felt Dwalin chuckle.

“Oh, I can think of a few ways to warm ye up,” Dwalin stated as the hand on Thorin’s hip slid around to grip his backside, giving it a squeeze once he got a good handful.

Thorin’s hips twitched slightly forward, moaning again as he tugged, lightly, on Dwalin’s beard once again. “Your quarters, now,” Thorin ordered and he bit back another moan when Dwalin’s lips brushed against his ear with a simple, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

*~*~*

Bilbo hummed sleepily as he buried himself into the blankets he had borrowed from the brothers, before he whined tiredly. He felt stretched and exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep and he slowly sat up, staring at his painted stars. He slowly stood up, the blanket hanging around his shoulders and reached up, his fingers briefly cutting off the glow of the painted stars as he traced along the tiny bumps of paint.

“It’s all an illusion, isn’t it?” he asked the darkness.

The darkness gave no response.


	5. Day Four

Dwalin woke with a deep sigh and he blinked up at the ceiling of his quarters, wondering what it was that had woken him. He could feel Thorin resting on his chest, his head and mass of hair towards the left side, probably with his ear pressed over Dwalin's heartbeat, and he could feel each soft puff, each tiny flutter of hair, that came from Thorin's breathing. There was an arm slung over Dwalin's waist, the hand resting against his hip, the other half-pinned under Thorin's head.

Dwalin's own arms were holding Thorin close, one drapped over the arm over his waist and the other resting on Thorin's bare lower back, and it was in that crystalized moment, where everything was perfect in that hazy way the morning after a good, long, night of fucking was. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes tracing nonexistent patterns as he began to run his fingers up and down Thorin's spine. Sometimes he deviated, tracing memorized curling lines of black that was Thorin's extravagantly simple tattoo that spread across his entire back, curling around his torso.

The chains that ran up his spine and along the scars old and new (at the time), had been done by a Dwarf on some moon that Thorin, and Dwalin, had been on for a reason Dwalin didn't want to remember. The names of Thorin’s family, crew, and soldiers who died under his command that were carefully tattooed along the chains had been done by Dwalin himself, however.

Dwalin hated that series of tattoos and hated his involvement in their creation. He hated each name he had tapped into Thorin’s skin along those chains and he had hated the fact Thorin had chosen _chains_ to be tattooed upon his body.

Dwalin glanced away from the ceiling when Thorin groaned, his chest vibrating against Dwalin’s ribcage, and he looked down in time to watch Thorin blink awake. “Stop doing that,” Thorin grumbled.

“Doing what?” Dwalin asked in a falsely innocent voice as he made his tracing feather-light across Thorin’s back, practically dancing along the memorized lines of the chains.

Dwalin laughed as Thorin groaned and shifted away from Dwalin’s hand, only for Dwalin to teasingly brush his fingers along Thorin’s spine as he lifted his other hand from where it rested on Thorin’s arm to bury it within Thorin’s hair. Thorin grunted and then let out a low moan as Dwalin began to massage across his scalp and down his neck, Thorin’s skin shivering as Dwalin’s fingers continued their feather light path over Thorin’s back.

Slowly, carefully, Dwalin began to drag his hand down around Thorin’s torso, tracing slowly down to where Thorin’s morning wood was, only for his path to be interrupted by a hard thump against the door of his quarters. The pair jerked, the moment broken, and Dwalin glanced over at the cycle clock, surprised to find that it was still fairly early in the day cycle, and most definitely before breakfast, meaning that everyone should be asleep with the autopilot engaged.

Thorin was already moving when everything fully registered in Dwalin’s mind, and Dwalin followed Thorin in getting dressed, tossing Thorin his sawed off shotgun, the Captain catching said gun as he opened the overhead door to Dwalin’s quarters. A cloth slipped down and Thorin cursed, glancing briefly at it before he rushed up the ladder, shotgun in ready to be fired as he stepped into the hallway, taking off after the whisper of sound that he could hear.

Sprinting down the hallway, he rushed down the stairs, hearing someone slip briefly before there was only a whisper that echoed through the stairway. He picked up speed, ignoring how his lungs were starting to burn as he stumbled out onto the walkway, in time to watch Bilbo disappear into the bottom floor exit of the hold. “Mahal curse it,” Thorin snarled as he picked up speed, trying to catch up with the fleeing form, but by the time he made it down into the area, Bilbo was gone.

Thorin panted softly, even as he heard Dwalin run up behind him, just as breathless. “Why did ya stop?” Dwalin asked.

“Because, I lost the Hobbit,” Thorin answered as he made sure the shotgun wouldn’t go off before he rested it against his shoulder.

“What do we do?” Dwalin asked.

“Tell Glorfindel fortune favors fools,” Thorin responded as he headed up the stairs that went up the side of the infirmary to the guest quarters.

*~*~*

“You saw him?” Glorfindel asked as he clung to his mug of tea.

“Briefly. He outran me after he woke me up,” Thorin answered and Glorfindel took in the rumpled clothes of yesterday as he sipped his tea.

“Where did he disappear?” Glorfindel asked quietly.

“Around here,” Thorin answered quietly as he shifted his posture.

Glorfindel was about to ask where, exactly, when Dwalin suddenly walked in, holding a quilt in his hands. “He’s the boys’ blanket thief as well,” Dwalin stated as he unfurred the quilt to reveal the typical geometrical patterns of the Dwarves.

Except it wasn’t.

Glorfindel set the tea mug to the side and stepped forward, staring at the carefully stitched patterns. The gold thread and the silver, the green amongst the black, and he knew it, almost as well as he knew his name. “The forest of Lothlorien,” Glorfindel murmured and started when it was suddenly tugged away.

“Yes. So…Bilbo stole the boys’ blankets,” Thorin stated and Glorfindel nodded, even as he watched the way Thorin folded the blanket with care.

“I’ll make sure he returns them, once I find him,” Glorfindel answered.

“We’ll find him. He’s somewhere in this area, because this is where he disappeared, so we have a focus, at the very least,” Thorin corrected and Glorfindel stared at him, eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“I thought it was a fool’s hope,” Glorfindel stated.

“Then let us all be fools,” Thorin snapped and stalked off with the quilt, Dwalin following out shortly thereafter.

Glorfindel chuckled as he returned to his mug of tea and stared up at the ceiling. “All fools indeed,” Glorfindel whispered and smiled into his tea, his eyes closed as he basked in the knowledge it wasn’t all a foolish, hopeless hope.

*~*~*

“So, he’s alive?” Nori questioned as Fíli tried to disconnect the box from her panel.

Considering he yelped and shook his hand, it wasn’t going very well. “Thorin saw him, and he’s not prone to hallucinations, so I consider that a ‘yes’. He’s the blanket thief, so Kíli and I got our Lothlorien Forest quilt back,” Fíli stated.

Nori smiled at that, watching as Fíli tried a different tactic to get the box unhooked, even as he yelped and shaking his hand out once more. “Why don’t you try that with gloves on?” Nori asked lightly.

“I really don’t want to know what will happen if I brush six sections of this at once while wearing gloves,” Fíli explained and Nori winced slightly at the thought.

This box was a pain and carefully wired in. After four more times, and four more shocks, Fíli dropped his hands away and shook his head. “Whoever put this in is going to have to take it out, but, I figured out that it isn’t transmitting anything,” Fíli stated as he slowly sat up, making sure to duck slightly to avoid smacking his head.

There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he smiled up at her, and Nori smiled back as she asked, “And how do you know that?”

Fíli held up a small device in his other hand and gave a cheeky grin. “If it was transmitting, this would have been set off. You could turn it on and I could try again, but I think all it is doing is deleting people. You should probably double check to make sure they aren’t being black marked, but other than that, I don’t think there’s anything you can do to keep it from working,” he explained as he wiggled it back and forth.

Nori laughed and shook her head slightly before she held her hand out to him. Fíli immediately grabbed onto it and she easily tugged him up onto his feet. Fíli chuckled a bit and shook his head, the mustache braids swinging through the air with each shift. “Well, you tried. If you discover who did it, send them in here to fix it?” Nori asked, still holding onto Fíli’s hand.

“I’ll drag them in here personally to fix it,” Fíli promised and Nori smiled slightly before she pulled her hand out of his.

“Thank you, Fíli,” she stated.

“No trouble, Lady Nori,” Fíli answered and quickly left her shuttle.

Nori inhaled deeply and closed her eyes as she exhaled.

“Curse that box,” Nori hissed as she turned back to her computer, opening up her clientele selection page the moment she pulled the tapestry off of it.

*~*~*

Glorfindel grunted as he was hauled out by his legs from the inside of a cupboard in the infirmary and glared up at the hauler, which was Bofur. “What?” Glorfindel demanded.

“Why are you dismantling yer own infirmary?” Bofur asked.

“Looking for Bilbo. I have a one-tracked mind. Let me go,” Glorfindel answered.

“Why in here?” Bofur asked.

“Thorin saw him. He disappeared in this area,” Glorfindel explained, resisting the urge to kick Bofur, hard, in the face.

He could do it, a twist of his leg, and quick snap, and Bofur would probably have a broken nose, or at least a bloody one. He twitched slightly as he restrained himself from following through on his thoughts and yanked his feet back the moment Bofur let him go. He then hauled himself back into the cupboard and began to feel along the edge. “There are no compartments down there,” Bofur stated and Glorfindel cursed, loudly.

“Look, we have caches, which I didn’t tell you about, all over. It’d be best if a Dwarf looked, Glorfindel, especially in this sort of area, where there are more than a few,” Bofur continued and Glorfindel snarled as he removed himself from under the cupboard.

Bofur retreated from him as Glorfindel twisted onto his feet, feeling all his years and all his age pressing down against him, threatening to rip him apart, as he snarled lowly. “What do you expect me to do Bofur? Just _sit back_ and do nothing? I’ve seen what _sitting back and doing nothing_ has done! It isn’t anything good. You think the Unification War was horrific? Try facing down a _legion_ with only yourself and a hundred others, others you trained and fought with and killed with _and would die for_ , some of whom were _kin_ in some way and that’s it, _that_ was _sitting back and doing nothing_ lead me to doing! Leading people I loved to _die_! And I will _not_ let Bilbo share their fate! Not so long as I draw breath!” Glorfindel hissed before he took a shuddering breath and stumbled back, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, slumping slowly to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Bofur, I’m sorry,” Glorfindel murmured and there was a heavy Dwarvish hand on his shoulder and he looked up to find a shakily smiling Bofur looking down at him.

“Hey, hey, I’m sure everything will be fine. And there’s no sitting back and doing nothing, I promise. Just…let us look here. You can look where there aren’t caches,” Bofur stated and Glorfindel nodded slowly before he slowly let his head fall back with a _thunk_ , staring at the ceiling.

His eyes wandered across the ceiling briefly, before he closed his eyes and slumped forward, elbows on his knees as he let his hands slide up to bury themselves into his hair at the back of his skull, just slumped there.

Bofur’s hand shifted to rub his back and they stayed like that till Thorin ordered Bofur up to the cockpit.

Silence followed that order, thick and heavy, and then there was the sound of a Dwarf retreating, leaving Glorfindel in his half dismantled infirmary.

*~*~*

Glorfindel didn’t bother to make a plate for dinner, instead making a mug of tea, inhaling the steam as he let it seep, eyes flicking uselessly around the room. “Did you clean up the infirmary?” Thorin asked and Glorfindel nodded, waving a tired hand at the infirmary, which was in the pristine condition it had been in this morning.

“Good. Get some sleep,” Thorin ordered and Glorfindel nodded tiredly, before he stood up, all sagging form and slightly trembling limbs before he made his way up to his quarters.

Thorin ignored the looks he was given by crew and Wizard alike.

*~*~*

Bilbo twitched from where he lay in his nest of borrowed blankets.

He was saddened that he had lost that quilt, but he just curled up tighter on the blankets, eyes blinking slowly up at the constellations, and ignoring the drops on the floor. He hadn’t noticed them before, but there they were, a few small sections of glow near his entryway.

He slowly looked back up at the constellations he had painted on the wall and licked dry lips before he slumped into the nest, trembling slightly. He gripped at the remaining blankets, whimpering quietly as he slowly slipped into a hazy doze that was not sleep, not even a way onto sleep.

Just like every other night, only this time…

This time there was nothing more to do to make his little sanctuary safer, and so Bilbo let himself…


	6. Day Five: Found

Thorin twitched when he felt Dwalin lean over his back. "What are you doin' up?" he demanded and Thorin turned his head to, gently, thunk his forehead to Dwalin's before he focused back at Dwalin's wall.

"I've looked in every cache in that area, every section, and every single piece of thing that he could have gotten into in that area and beyond and I cannot find him, but I know I saw that Hobbit," Thorin answered and he felt Dwalin shift before two heavily muscled arms wrapped firmly around his waist and tugged him back, down onto the bed, before he felt himself being pinned.

"Dwalin, I am still fully clothed. And I have my boots on," Thorin grumbled, even as he shifted his head to let Dwalin nuzzle against his neck and carefully brought his booted feet up onto the bed.

“Not the first time we’ve slept like this. Don’t worry about it. Just get some sleep and I’ll help you find the little Hobbit in a few hours, all right?” Dwalin murmured.

“No, it isn’t,” Thorin retorted, twitching slightly as Dwalin pressed his teeth ‘threateningly’ against his neck.

“I’ll sleep anyway,” Thorin muttered and Dwalin released his neck and nudged his nose against the spot he had just released, causing Thorin to twitch again.

“Thought you weren’t going to care about the little ghost,” Dwalin murmured and Thorin let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes.

“I don’t,” Thorin argued.

“Yeah, because you work yerself into exhaustion and spend a great deal of time talking about how he won’t be found alive when you don’t care. My mistake,” Dwalin responded and Thorin kicked him with the heel of his boot, or tried to, except the tiny movement allowed Dwalin to pin Thorin’s legs to the bed with one of his own.

“Go te sleep Thorin,” Dwalin murmured and Thorin resisted for a few more minutes before he finally slipped into a dreamless slumber.

*~*~*

Thorin resisted the urge to kick the wall of his ship as another search was as fruitless as all the rest of the searches. Glorfindel had abandoned searching the area and instead had retreated to the hold. Bofur had come back to say Glorfindel had pried the grate off the hidden storage area in the wall of _Azanulbizar_ and had slid in with a flashlight to search that area. “He knows where the normal cache areas are on a Firefly class, and he’ll eventually find where the ones we put in are, Thorin,” Bofur had warned at the time, which was enough to have Thorin scowling.

Now alone, Thorin was lost as to what to do.

There was a missing, live, Hobbit. He disappeared in this area and, unless he knew Khuzdul, which was unlikely (more like impossible, but the little Hobbit seemed to _breathe_ impossible, so Thorin wouldn’t put it past him), he couldn’t get into the caches, with only two exceptions. One was one in the ceiling and that was due to the fact they hadn’t had a chance to spell it in such a fashion, so it was mostly just well camouflaged.

The other revealed itself to a word in Sindarin and Thorin liked to pretend that it didn’t exist for the simple fact that it was not _his_ cache, but one that had already been built into the ship before he got it, meaning he didn’t have access to it.

He just knew it was there, since it was behind the one he hadn’t had a chance to conceal in the Dwarvish way yet, but he could bloody tell it was there. He let out a low growl and slumped in his seat, massaging his temples and ignoring how he could hear one of his nephews walking into the common area. “There hasn’t been anyone in the engine room. Everything’s untouched in there,” Kíli stated as sat next to him.

Thorin sighed and leaned back, staring at the infirmary. “We just keep looking then. Now that we have definitive proof, there’s no reason to turn our attention elsewhere,” Thorin answered and Kíli chuckled.

“Uncle, did you ever truly focus elsewhere?” he asked quietly and yelped as Thorin shoved him off the sofa, his nephew cackling the moment he hit the ground.

Thorin just stood and stalked away from his soon to be dead nephew.

*~*~*

Glorfindel had another mug of tea and was ignoring the protein Gandalf was pushing towards him. “Nothing?” Glorfindel asked softly as his grip became white knuckle on the ceramic.

“Nothing,” Thorin confirmed and there was the sound of shattering ceramic filled the air.

Glorfindel cursed softly as he stared down at the mess he had made, the tea mixing with blood and the broken pieces on the table top. “Sorry,” he muttered as he began to pick out any ceramic pieces in his hands.

“I’ll…clean that up after I take care of my hands,” Glorfindel stated softly as he stood.

“No, I’ve got it,” Kíli stated as Glorfindel began to make his way to the infirmary, trying to keep the blood from his hands from dripping onto the floor.

He eventually got to the infirmary and began to take care of his cut hands. A careful search revealed that he hadn’t missed any tiny silvers and so he began to clean out the cuts. The antiseptic stung like a thousand fiery needles, but it allowed him to focus and he sighed softly.

If this continued for much longer, he was going to have to leave the ship or rip through it in a single-minded determination to find Bilbo and keep him safe. His hands shook as he tried to bandage them over the sink, cursing slightly when he couldn’t get his hands to work and resisting the urge to just throw it all across the room.

He was a healer.

He was a healer and he would _not_ throw the tools of a healer across the room, no matter how frustrated he was. He closed his eyes and twitched slightly when he heard someone walking towards the infirmary. He heard them step into the infirmary and he opened his eyes and glanced over, surprised to see the taciturn XO standing there, glowering at him. “Show me your hands,” the bald Dwarf, Dwalin, demanded and Glorfindel shifted to hold his hands out to him.

Dwalin immediately set about double checking that there were no shards, followed by bandaging Glorfindel’s hands the way a field medic would do so on another field medic. “Brother or yourself?” Glorfindel asked.

“Cousin,” Dwalin answered and Glorfindel nodded.

“Thank you,” he stated and Dwalin shrugged before he turned.

“Come on,” Dwalin ordered and Glorfindel followed after him, walking slowly up the steps, only to slow down to a stop, noticing the drops of blood.

“We can clean it if we care! Come on!” Dwalin snarled and Glorfindel began to run, dodging around Dwalin.

He didn’t stop and didn’t even wince as he crashed into the table, staring intently at Fíli and Kíli, who were leaning back. “Is there anything else missing?” Glorfindel asked.

“What?” Kíli asked.

“Was anything else stolen from you? Specifically anything that was liquid,” Glorfindel responded.

“A can of paint, white, sort-of. It’s glow in the dark and glows white, but it is technically clear,” Kíli explained as Fíli began to shift around, looking ready to put himself between Glorfindel and Kíli.

“Was it open?” Glorfindel asked.

Kíli frowned, staring hard at the table as Glorfindel resisted leaning forward, trying to press an answer faster. His muscles were tightening with every second of silence and he resisted the urge to let his stress come to the forefront, as Kíli looked up with a lost look as he answered, “I don’t know.”

Glorfindel looked over at Fíli, who frowned. “It most likely was. If we had it, we probably used it for something,” Fíli stated and Glorfindel felt as if possible relief practically turned his limbs into cooked noodles.

“Why did you need to know?” Fíli questioned.

“Because, if Bilbo stole your blankets, what if he stole that too? And, what if, it was open enough for drops to leave a trail?” Glorfindel asked.

“Bofur, get to the helm. Kíli, prepare to go dark. Everyone else, get a flashlight so we don’t stumble and kill ourselves in the dark,” Thorin ordered.

*~*~*

It was Bofur who had found the first spot of paint on the cargo hold floor. From there they had traced it to the infirmary where a rather large splash was on the counter and floor, almost perfectly parallel to where the hidden door in the ceiling was. “We checked it, Thorin and he wasn’t in there,” Dwalin swore, even as Thorin cursed.

“He knows _Sindarin_?” Thorin demanded.

“Yes,” Glorfindel answered as he opened up the ceiling before he climbed up into the ceiling with only a slight kick of his feet to help propel him up.

Thorin cursed and, with some help, followed Glorfindel in, surprised to find multiple splashes across the floor. “He crawled up here?” Thorin asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Probably half-jumped, half-hauled his way in here, though I couldn’t really tell you how he did it either,” Glorfindel answered as he looked around the cramped space.

“The only problem is that I don’t know the word to open the hidden door,” Thorin stated and Glorfindel smiled.

“Mellon,” Glorfindel stated and the soft sound of a door opening could be heard cutting through the air.

“How did you know that?” Thorin demanded.

“Above the infirmary, this was probably originally used to hide those that they needed to sneak across borders for whatever reason. A friend. _Mellon_ ,” Glorfindel answered as Thorin swung the door open further with a curse.

“This is small and you barely fit as it is,” Thorin stated and Glorfindel cursed before he carefully slipped down.

“Get the lights back on,” Thorin ordered and then he slipped off his coat, dropping it down for Dwalin to catch before he slipped through the door and around an almost too sharp turn and into a room that was probably an astronomer’s dream.

Constellations, carefully painted and marked, along with the named stars, stretched around the room that was almost too small for Thorin to stand up properly in. In one corner, out of the way, was the missing can of paint and a brush on top of it and, in the opposite corner, a small form was curled up on familiar blankets. “Bilbo,” Thorin called as he strode over to the form, who didn’t even twitch.

“Bilbo,” Thorin called again and reached out for the form.

His heart nearly ripped itself straight out of his chest when his hand was suddenly grasped by the form. Thorin started, trying to pull away, but Bilbo, despite the trembles that Thorin could feel in his grasp, held on.

“Thorin…where’s Glorfy?” Bilbo rasped out and Thorin slumped slightly.

“He’s right down in the infirmary. Can you make it?” Thorin responded gruffly.

“No,” Bilbo mumbled.

“All right then,” Thorin answered and, with far too much ease, Thorin had Bilbo in his arms, the Hobbit shivering away in his grip.

*~*~*

Glorfindel smiled as he brushed Bilbo’s hair out of his sleeping face. The tween needed a bath, but he had been so out of it, that Glorfindel had feared giving him one at the moment, instead setting up an IV to start getting nutrients into Bilbo’s malnourished frame. Glorfindel smiled as he carefully tucked the blanket around Bilbo, careful to maneuver Bilbo’s wrist with the IV in it on top of the blanket.

“He will be fine, Glorfindel,” Gandalf stated and Glorfindel made a noncommittal noise as he began to work on lowering the lights, though not putting them out.

Bilbo didn’t do well in the dark.

“Hobbits are stronger than they seem,” Gandalf continued and Glorfindel carefully squeezed Bilbo’s fingers, smiling faintly when Bilbo sleepily squeezed them back.

“I know,” Glorfindel answered, the image of a shaking Bilbo who clung to Glorfindel as they made their way out of the Academy filling his mind’s eye.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> HOBBIT BIG BANG ENTRY!!!!
> 
> YAY!!!!
> 
> *beams and pets it*
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Fanmix by Meddlesomewiz on both 8tracks and Spotify can be found here and by Eru is it gorgeous](http://meddlesomewiz.livejournal.com/11525.html)
> 
>  
> 
> [PANDA'S ART!!! LOOK AT THE PRETTIES PLEASE WHILE LISTENING TO THE MUSIC!!! DO EEEET PLEASE!!!](http://pandamani.tumblr.com/post/86658099209/heres-the-art-ive-done-for-moonrose91s-firefly)


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